


The Penitent

by silasfinch



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: F/F, Fix-It, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-01-20 14:33:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12434817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silasfinch/pseuds/silasfinch
Summary: My obligatory addition to the ‘Fix It’ CanonMichael fights a war, seeks atonement for crimes and falls in love for the second time.Alas for pious planning —It mattered not a whit!As far as gloom went in that room,The lamp might have been lit!My Little Sorrow would not weep,My Little Sin would go to sleep —To save my soul I could not keepMy graceless mind on it!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This grew from 1k to 6k  
> Please let me know if I overlooked anything major canon-wise.  
> Still dyslexic so please be gentle with rebuke of grammer.

  
Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you  
Friedrich Nietzsche

  
Penitent: Truly sorry for having sinned or done other wrong and willing to atone; contrite; repentant

  
**Day 1**

Michael is not going to cry.

She solves chess problems instead.

Sarek set her the sequence of problems last week, and she is eager to solve them, now seems like an ideal time. If she tries hard enough, she can completely distract from the kind words Philippa is saying and retreat into the predictability of problem-solving. Mental retreats are a coping technique she learns early in her fostering, and it serves her well in this instance.

K2 to E7

Besides, the odds are against her chess programme believing her 'too young to know her mind and feelings.' Michael predicted this response with 89.987% accuracy but how correct she is is no protection against the emotional impact at the time.

"We work together closely and share many intimate things. This situation can blur the lines sometimes; I am nearly twice your age What you feel isn't real no matter how genuine the emotion."

"So I am little more than an imprinting Sehlat cub?" the bitterness in her words leaks out as her controls waver.

"Michael...: Philippa pauses to gather her thoughts not wanting to inflict more danger than is already evident.

P6 to E4

"Michael you are young, what you are feeling is perfectly natural, common even." Philippa's voice is soft as if she is a xenobiologist soothing a wounded creature who is fragile in need of care, the exact opposite of how she hopes the other woman views her.

B7 to K1....no that wasn't right.

"May I be excused, Captain? the words are clipped and professional.

"Michael we need to talk about this..."

Q8 to A1

"There is nothing more to say, Captain. You made yourself clear, thank you for your clarity on that matter, the Vulcan Science Academy is expecting my call, I am supervising a viva next week, so I will not be available at that time."

Checkmate - Sarek will be pleased with her progress.

"The crew has put together a small birthday party for you, its supposed to be a surprise but I know you do not enjoy those," Philippa whispers flatly.

"I am of Vulcan, Captain. We do not celebrate the anniversaries of our births in such ways. I was too young when my parents died to form an attachment to the human ritual."

Not that she has not half considered the connection between her birthday and her desire to confess to the Captain, but there is no reason to share that information.

"Please talk to me, Michael...I think you are taking what I am saying the wrong way if you would sit down and listen."

Michael stiffens noticeably willing each of her vertebrae to remain locked in place. If possible, her stare goes even more devoid of expression. The look that some of the ships have unkindly labeled her 'Vulcan Fauge" state.

"I will keep my counsel private in this, as it should have been from the beginning" Michael retorts before spinning on her heal and leaving.

She leaves behind a forlorn looking Captain and the set of classic earth literature that Philippa had been so delighted to find in her uncle's antique store.

Philippa believes that she has done the right thing. Michael is hurt now, but she will see sense soon enough, her passing infatuation will be a distant memory in the face of someone suitable. Philippa does not have a fragile sense of self, but the idea of burdening someone so young with a retiring workaholic Captain for life is an injustice, she only ever wants to see the light in the other woman's eyes not be the cause of it diminishing.

Philippa is just pleased that Michael was too distracted and wounded to note that Philippa deliberately fails to mention how she feels, its a sin by omission but one that will not keep her awake at night.

Michael is too precious to be ensnared in an old woman's flights of fancy.

 

 

 

 

**Month One**

It turns out you cannot force someone to accept clemency

Starfleet has provisions for offences to be overturned or commuted if an argument can is made that the mutineer was working for the best interest of his or her crew. The hearings are long and laborious, but a clemency is possible, especially if the direct subjects of the mutiny agree with the decision.

Philippa Georgiou demands clemency for her first officer, ignoring doctors advice and demanding the judicial panel take a statement from her status chamber.

Captain Georgiou takes responsibility for the loss of life and the near loss of the entire ship, claiming that it is her lack of judgment, not Michael's actions that are to blame.

  
It makes many long debates and ten sworn statements, but Michael Burnam is absolved of wrongdoing in the eyes of Starfleet and charged with the much lesser offenses of Dereliction of Duty, Minor Assault and a string of crimes relating to other officers.

A demotion and a loss of all rank but nothing more or it would be Michael had not insisted on being sentenced to the original term.

"I committed the crime for which I stand trial. Therefore I must serve the designated punishment. There can be no variation allowed for the perceived correctness of my actions - I violated an oath. My path is clear."

On this point, Michael is unmovable, despite the hard logic arguments of her foster father and brother.

Captain Gabriel Loca never cares much for the wishes or desires of others, especially in his drive to beat the Klingons. He essentially kidnaps the former officer from her designated path and all but forces her into indentured servitude using a combination of guilt and logic.

"You can drown in guilt and prostrate yourself to the altar of logic anywhere in the galaxy at least be useful while you are at it, you will serve your former crew far better" he growls.

Michael has no ready response to this and becomes a crew member by default.

 

 

  
**Month Two**

"I am so glad to see you."

  
Michael is telling the absolute truth, but she knows she is doing a poor job of concealing her shock and Philippa's physical appearance. She obsessively read the updates from Numbee and than Starfleet Medical, but nothing can prepare her for the terror of seeing such a familiar form so changed by battle.

It is a testament to her strength that she volunteered to be an observer on Discovery for Starfleet War Council. She is well within her rights to demand a pension and retire back to Earth.

They are in the transporter room aboard the Discovery, so it is not possible to say anything more personal. Michael is not sure if she is disappointed or relieved and she is not at liberty to contemplate this further.

The feared Klingon Battle Axe missed Philippa's heart, but it did not spare much else.

Consequently, all the structures of Philippa's shoulders and upper chest are shredded and she will never regain close to full mobility on her right side.

Klingon weapons are designed to inflict as much damage as possible as quickly as their 'war scientists' can develop. The blades have edges that tear through flesh at odd angles, all but guaranteed to be break bones and spread infection. In a nasty twist, the wounds are unusually resistant to healing shortcuts or healing tanks.

Michael cannot control the impulse to reach out and touch Philippa, trailing gentle fingers along the sleave of a civilisation travelling outfit.

"I cannot calm to be unscathed, but I am recovering well, Michael" the words are soft and tender, the subtext is obvious. It takes everything in Michael not to extend the touch.

"Allow me to show you to your temporary quarters, Captain. Captain Lorca will want to see you in just under an hour" Michael informs her as they begin walking down the corridors.

First on the former Captain's list is to reconnect with Saru, who (justifiably) feels a sense of abandonment in the frantic rush to intervene in Michael's case.

 

  
**Month Three**

Michael believes she has a strategy when interacting with Philippa.

The word strategy is possibly a too grander term for limiting their interactions to public places and the regular staff meetings, but it gives Michael a sense of control.

Not that there is an opportunity for this to become an issue.

The USS Discovery is not so much a Starship as it is a finely tuned vehicle of war. This mandate is a disconcerting notion given the principles that form the foundation of Starfleet on and which it champions throughout the galaxies

Gabriel Lorca views the crew in much the same way, as a means to an end. There is no other goal on shift but finding workable strategies to fight the new threat.

Regulations stretch to the absolute limit, Philippa only intervenes once or twice when people physically collapse from exhumation. In the case of an Andorian a full system failure.

Their screaming match echoes in the corridors.

So everyone is suitably occupied maintaining both their regular duties and the demands of preparing for war, there is no time for personal entanglements.

  
Michael is heading to the science station at 1:30 am, competitively speaking. She cannot sleep so she may as well get an early start on tomorrow’s workload.

She is used to silence at this time; the shifts crew stay in central areas, so she picks up with soft cries immediately as she passes by the gym and recreation room.

The voice is achingly familiar. Michael has a high threshold for distress, but she barely contains her reaction to the scene in from of her.

Philippa huddles on the floor, body locked in an unnatural posture, racked by violent tremors and jerks, each moment causing a small gasp of pain. Michael sank to her knees beside the older woman, quickly running necessary medical assessments

“Philippa I’m going initiate an emergency medical transport.”

Philippa struggles to shake her head and look at Michael.

“Nothing they can do..intractable nerve damage. This episode will pass” Philippa manages to gasp out before her arm twists.

Michael sits on her heels, contradictory impulses at war within her as she struggles to assess the right thing to do.

“Do you trust me, Philippa?

“with my life.” there is an underlying sadness in the tone.

  
Without a word, Michael gently scopes her up into a tight embrace before moving to the nearby resting spaces for people doing double shifts.She can lock the door one of the few areas that the mutineer can influence.

Philippa sinks into the bed gratefully but moves in surprise when Michael starts removing her outer clothes.

“Trust Me.”

Michael narrates what she is doing as she begins to manipulate firmly different points on Pippa’s back and spine, careful to avoid the significant scars and burns.

“The Vulcan Learning Centre requires that all students learn healing techniques and how to apply them in acute situations, especially in the case of acute pain or emotional distress.”

“I qualify on both counts than.”

Michael does not reply on carefully studying the interplay of muscles on Philippa’s back; there is satisfying relaxation in the major groups, but it is going take longer than a single episode.

“Gods, that feels amazing.”

Michael turns around so that she mirrors the other woman's position, careful to avoid jostling still strained limbs. Michael does not know the healing arts well, but she appreciates her comprehensive Vulcan education when she tracks the subtle easing of distress. It is a contentment she feels if she aids any creature in pain (hence her profession). However, there is a unique element when assisting someone so beloved.

“Follow my breathing and move everything slowly, there is no time frame.” Michael automatically adopts the tones of the Healers who guided her as a terrified child; it is an unusual sensation to be on the other end of the equation.

It takes a long time, but Philippa does heed her wild eyes never leaving a fixed point above Michael's shoulder.

The nerve blocking techniques begin to work, imperfectly but steadily. The violent spasming begins to wane, Philippa's legs and arms return to her control. The most severely damaged skin no longer rages with aggravation and infection.

Philippa no longer appears in danger of vomiting and straining her already fragile (newly repaired) diaphragm and digestive tract. Her breathing falls into synch with Michael's carefully modulated breathes, mimicking in such a way is a profoundly intimate act, but this is not something either of them has time to contemplate.

After 56.860 minutes Michael feels confident to let the pseudo healing trance fade away, she is satisfied that this move has stabilised the worst of the Captain's symptoms.

"I do not deserve such consideration but will you stay for awhile?" Philippa's request is tentative, correctly sensing Michael's desire to put distance between them.

" I do not offer or allocate my skills based on perceived worthiness Philippa, of course, I will stay." Michael reverts to Vulcan social mores because she lacks an alternative.

The rest of her reasoning which is understood by them both remains unsaid. Philippa is on the verge of an exhausted sleep, and it is possible she was prideful enough to stay in that state without calling for help, the idea brings tears to her former commander's eyes.

"Sleep now, Captain. You need to regain your strength, and we have long days ahead, Captain Lorca makes few allowances, especially given my circumstances." Michael whispers tenderly.

"He can try to push you around, Number One. I have plenty of stories on him from the Academy days." Philippa counters sleepily.

Michael doubts the effectiveness of Phillipa's declaration; the former Captain is not going to around for much longer and if anything Lorca will resent the oversight he is barely even civil presently.

She appreciates the effort regardless of the outcome, and she will treasure these quiet moments between them, considering that they came so close to losing each other in a variety of ways.

An old Earth lullaby echoes in her head, and she begins humming, despite not possessing any discernible musical talent.

 

 

**Month Four**

It takes her well over three months to find the letters.

Michael is at once furious with herself for not noticing them and Philippa for once again not bothering to communicate with her directly.

To be fair, there is allot to adjust to on this new ship that is recommissioned purely as a warship. The vessel and its crew does not have any of the checks and balances that Michael did not know she is so reliant on and having a roommate with social anxiety is not a natural reality, even if TIlly is a kind person.

The first paper letter is sitting between the pages of her copy of Alice and Wonderland.

The Second one folds inside the jacket copy of Treasure Island.

The Third falls out the bowl she uses for meditation.

In total Michael collects over a dozen messages of various lengths and formats, both nervous and methodically minded she gathers them all before starting to read them.

_"Dear Michael,_

_I am sorry I lied to you, but at the time I believed it to be the right course of action, A captaincy is defined by hard choices but rejecting is without a doubt one of the hardest._

_I thought I was protecting, presumptuous but that is a danger of spending decades in-command._

_You are doubtlessly_ analysing _our every interaction to see how you misread the situation so poorly. The simple truth is, you did not_

_You are merely far braver than I am, you do not see the obstacles that I see every day and night._

_Dying on the floor of a warship, blood pooling and organs failing is a grand clarifier. My last thought before the medical transport is that I caused you pain only because I was too scared to risk pain._

Michael winces, she rarely regrets her photographic memory, but she wishes she does not remember every rasping breath

  
_Dear Michael,_

_You prideful idiot._

_Do do you honestly think you are achieving anything meaningful?_

_You are no mutineer, Michael Burman or if you are by a technical definition but only because I was wrong and the ship was on the line. Did you sacrifice your whole career for regulation?_

_You aren't going to get your wish and when I am here to counter the narrative. Don’t forget I am at the zenith of my career and an injured captain to boot; they will listen._

_Don’t you dare spout logic at me – There is no logic in a wasting a life, especially when it will not bring back another._

_Didn’t your Surak teach you that?”_

 

  
_Dear Michael,_

_I hear that Gabriel Lorca feels similarly about you wasting your talents in acts of atonement. Our approaches could not be more radically different, but he is the right man to lead this brutal undertaking. If he had been your Captain the 'Battle of The Binary Stars' would have ended far differently, either heroically or brutally, he would have taken your advice._

_Keep this in mind when he pushes you to your physical, emotional and moral limits. Do not lose the core of who you are and the great sense of rightness but be prepared to bend what you think is right in the here and now, not even Vulcans foresaw a Klingon uprising on this scale, their rules might not apply._

_My ancestors revere the willow tree, tall and proud but able to bend with tremendous forces without losing fundamental integrity._

_I see you as that willow – my Michael._

  
There are few luxuries that Michael can expect on the USS Discovery on account of both her status as the mutineer and the ship having few luxuries to offer beyond those required for the job.

She is allowed to lock her room door, and fortunately, Captain Lorca already did his 'random' series of drills for the week. Michael is proud that there is a 90.7% possibility that knows the pattern.

Privacy is essential when she reads these letters.

Phillipa may have been reticent with her feelings in person, but that is not the case on paper. There is no ambiguity in what is said; nothing is left up to interpretation. Michael suspects this is a form of therapy as she recovers because it is more stream of consciousness than directive.

Michael is not wrong in her interpretations of some of their moments together, especially in the drought-stricken world before of the Klingon declaration.

Tilly does her the service of ignoring her apparent tears and not commenting on the lock on the room. Michael expresses her gratitude by allowing the verbose ensign to ramble about the day and the precise state of their replicator rations.

It is strangely soothing to consider such domestic problems.

The letters slide under her pillow.

 

 

  
**Month Six**

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Michael does not succeed in keeping the hurt from her voice when she is finally able to track down Philippa in person. Her beautiful letters (both paper and electronic) have sustained her through some truly dark days as she finds ever more inventive ways to torture a beautiful creature.

They also fuel an intense resentment.

Philippa lied by omission for years

She finds her former captain at Vulcan run retreat run in the style of P'Jem Monastery designed to aid beings recovering from significant trauma.

“I was always more proficient at Chess rather than Go. I was never comfortable outside certain risk parameters” Philippa replies calmly not moving from the meditation position.

Michael gets the metaphor, but she is no mood for abstract thinking.

“Yet you risked anything championing for my release – including against friends, family and the Fleet.”

Michael sinks into a smiler posture, determined to wait her out. There is a real possibility that the covert Discovery and her crew will be an acceptable sacrifice in the war effort, both Lorca and the Council have said as much, If this is the case then Michael wants this truth resolved between them.

"I would have done far more to save you" Philippa whispers slowly unfolding from her position and regarding Michael seriously.

"My greatest wish for you ever since you came onboard is that you find both happiness and balance, that your duel nature finds harmony" Philippa smiles softly. '

"You exceed even my loftiest expectations especially when you tried to save us."

"Thank you," Michael says simply.

"You weren't wrong in your assessments; I feel just as much for you as you do for me and I can even calculate the start of this down to the day without Vulcan training" she laughs softly, wincing at the resulting stretch on her scars.

Michael dark eyes alight with questions and comments but she wills her posture to remain still, it is easy to accomplish in the surroundings that are so reminiscent of home, their privacy resides in the far garden.

"But from a different standpoint, I was equally correct; It is common for younger officers to become infatuated with superiors. For those feelings to flare out like a lousy romance novel or Chinese Opera, of which there are many."

Philippa smiles sadly "It does not take much investigation to see how many of those relationships latest or end well, not always but primarily for the senior officer or older person in whatever the situation may be."

Michael fights waves of defensiveness " You did not consider the specifics of our situation worthy of consideration? Or discussion with me? I could cite plenty of evidence in our favour if that is your wish"

Philippa reaches a soothing hand to the other woman's fingers, which are balling tightly into fists of frustration.

"Not at that precise moment no, I thought I would wait, see you through to a captaincy and retire to become a reclusive academic. If your feelings remained the same, I would make an overture at a suitable time, perhaps your next award ceremony." Phillippa explains interlacing their hands together.

"Was I suppose to be passively waiting to meet your timetable?"

Philippa sighs self depreciatingly.

"Of course not, if you had found or find another life companion or bondmate, I will not begrudge you happiness, Michael, in whatever form it takes

"like another nobel figure from your operas, sacrificing for honour? Michael says drily.

"So where does that leave us, given that neither of our aspirations or intentions came to pass?" Michael inquires, voice barely above a whisper.

"If you have no objection to the notion, either in principle or practice, I would still like to execute my original aspiration. Of course making allowances for the reality of you fighting a war or at least a cold war and my recovery in the early stages" Philippa cocks her head in question her motions not entirely calm.

"Since when have either of us had a reputation for conventionality? Why break with tradition now?

Philippa struggles to find something to say in response that hits the mark between meaningful and overly sentimental, but Michael holds up a hand.

"The Adepts and Priestesses from Mout Syla do not encourage companionship during these stays; they believe that personal entanglements detract from the acute phases of recovery.

"Considering the scenarios my mind is conjuring right now, the healers are not wrong in this assessment" Philippa agrees sheepishly.

"A topic worthy of discussing at a later date. However, your progress is evident; I will leave you to continue it" Michael gently disentangles their hands.

"From a human perspective attachments are a foundation of any healing process." Phillippa bargains playfully.

"Ah but I want time to be with you and time is not something Captain Lorca is generous with, heal well Philippa."

"Live Long and Prosper Michael"

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
**Month Twelve**

Numbers become her haven.

To be more accurate a particular type of numeracy is her haven. There are many terrible statistics aboard the USS Discovery, each pushing both her Vulcan and human sensibilities to the limit.

The number of times Ripper screamed in agony before collapsing into its desperate status. The pain was impossible to ignore even on such alien

The precise calculations to decide which Starfleet outpost begging for help will get priority. This decision usually has more to do with supply lines than souls.

The worst numbers of all are the ones dealing with how the USS Shenzho finds salvation, down to the millisecond. The scattered crew survivors may hurl insults both in person and in the news feeds but never with as much accuracy as she does.

 

Instead, she finds solace in pheasant numbers.

The number of steps Philippa can take without stopping in pain and exhaustion (35)

  
The number of physical books Philippa insists on sending her, despite the considerable expense (10)

The number of seconds it takes for Sarek and Amanda to adjust to the news that she has a relationship (6)

  
Michael also finds a certain comfort in finding a place in the crew. She long ago resigns herself to the fact it will never be as close as the bonds on the Shenzhou, for the circumstances different in every way but she is making small inroads into the active hostility if one accepts that the label mutineer will follow her everywhere.

Commander Saru is still uncomfortable when they are in the same room together, especially when he feels like his authority under threat. Michael's scientific knowledge makes them clash on a regular basis. However, they share a certain level of grief, and there are glimmers of comradeship.

Sylvia Tilly is almost comfortable with the notion of sharing her room with Starfleet's only traitor since Michael is willing to concede to all her eccentricities, in truth the former commander cannot summon the energy to care about beds, diets and oversharing but passive acceptance seems to fill the other woman with disproportionate gratitude.

The science and medical teams are relatively easy to please and appease, she proves her worth and tries not to threaten their domains. Dr. Paul Stamets will always resent her upstart principles but he has had is entire world hijacked so its possible its nothing to do with her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
**Month Fourteen**

Michael hates to disappoint Sarek.

Sarek is both her most influential critic and alley since her transfer. This dichotomy is a feature of their relationship since her childhood. His words were harsh and unyielding at the time, but it paved the way for her to adapt and succeed at The Vulcan Learning and beyond.

He does not offer an opinion on her choices to date, except to agree with Philippa when the former captain refused to let her severe out the full sentence without intervention.

"The preservation of life on such a scale supersedes any other considerations or laws that govern individuals, Michael. The same applies regardless of the eventual outcome." he lectures softly.

"You were facing a personal version of the Kobayashi Maru, and you did your absolute best to perform in those circumstances. The Klingons are a single enemy in this time nobody can take on individual accountability.

He sends her Vulcan ethics texts to guide her in the new profession of science for war, tactfully reminding her that Vulcan has a dark past.

They debate philosophical problems to heighten her mental agility when she is forced to defend her position to the Captain and other members of the crew; he treats the arguments like training sessions.

Sarek puts his son in opposition on some sensitive topics, to test them both. The fostering sibling's debate 'Reunification' and the place of the Andorians in modern society for three hours.

 

 

  
**Month Eighteen**

"I didn't expect to see you."

The hologram of Lady Amada Grayson regards her seriously, managing to convey much emotion without saying anything and through the limited medium.

"You mean to say that you thought or hoped I would be content with the carefully modulated reports you send or the factual information you feed my son and husband, which you know prioritise very few of my concerns."

"You forget I have lived amongst Vulcans most of my adult life. Neither Sarek or Spock have said anything in particular, but there is plenty they are not saying, Vulcan Silence at its finest."

There is no point in offering any form of denial, so she does not even attempt one.

"You were not able to serve out your self-imposed punishment for what happened to the Shenzhou. So you accepted a situation that is not only experimental but is pushing your ethical compass to the extreme, facing an enemy you still have nightmares about?"

"Accept is not precisely the phrasing I would use. I am finding a certain degree of peace here, Amanda."

"Are you taking care of yourself? Sleeping and eating?" the maternal undertone is impossible to miss.

  
**Month Twenty**

It is unconventional momentum.

They fall into something of a routine and pattern of communication, allowing for the covert nature of Discovery's work and the frequent communication blackouts that Lorca insists on with regularity

Philippa continues to send her letters, in electronic form which is an equal mix of correspondence and dairy, her recovery dominates the first series and after that her plans for the future, she is thinking of writing a book and taking up teaching.

Their relationship is not mentioned or developed in any specific details. The communication resembles a Vulcan courtship, getting to know each other and exchanging confidences on a variety of topics. For that matter, it does not feel that different from their preexisting relationship, which is something to ponder.

Michael treasures the correspondence so much she assigns a specific PAAD and translates the communication into a High Vulcan so that Tilly is unlikely to investigate, but she does not read either of the language variants in any event.

Michael, in turn, takes joy in spoiling the other woman. She spends a considerable time sourcing presents to deliver, from Vulcan nerve healing gels to love poetry in multiple languages. When a particularly darling mood strikes, she sends a carving of a Vulcan heroine who is long suspected to have a female consort.

 

**Month Twenty Four**

Philippa is there when she lands.

Gabriel Lorca has almost limitless powers as one of the fleets few convert ships directly fighting the war effort. The 'Spore Drive' is dealing crucial blows to the newly reforming warrior houses.

However, even he cannot work for his crew beyond the point of exhaustion, especially when Discovery is continually upgrading and moving from battleground to Black Alert and back again on a regular basis.

The crew has to have the opportunity to recharge in whatever way they see fit, or so Starfleet Command is demanding in increasingly shrill tones with the implied threat of sending more oversight.

Michael expects to be returning to Vulcan for the next two weeks and is confused to see Philippa standing on the edges of the docking station.

"What are you doing here?" Michael asks as she hurries to meet the older woman before she gets knocked over by an overzealous community, Philippa is a prideful person and likely pushed herself to make it this far unassisted.

"I co-opted the first week of your holiday from Sarek and Amanda, they were very understanding, and I promised to stay for lunch when I am excelled on Vulcan" Philippa explains with a tired smile.

"I thought it was about time we stop talking in circles and attempt to behave like functional adults, past behaviour notwithstanding" Philippa continues with a dry laugh

Michael blinks struggling to reconcile the implications even as she does a silent review of Philippa's injuries and measuring for improvements. She is pleased to see that the ghostly pallor that previously dominated her features is receiving.

Michael lightly brushes their fingers together briefly, even though they are both uncomfortable with public displays of affection.

"What does talking in lines entail exactly? she asks with a raised eyebrow as she offers her arm to the other woman in something of a courtly gesture, reminiscent on the literature they exchange.

"Well now that we aren't separated galaxies, lightyears, rank, and whims of an experimental ship fresh off the rank, the options are limitless." Philippa smiles up at the other woman.

"First I thought that I could take you out to dinner, there is an excellent Vulcan restaurant not far from here, and they serve some of your favourites, I don't know product freshness high on Gabriel's priority list."

"That sounds lovely; I hope they have some good Krei'la, the replicator makes an approximation."

"They do, I already reviewed the menu for you."

Michael smiles at the thoughtful gestures, and because she can, and nobody cares, she leans down and kisses the other woman above the eyebrow.

 

 

  
****'

Their time together is not what either of them expects.

Michael allows herself to think about being Philippa's lover often. It's a misrepresentation that Vulcans and those who follow their teachings refuse to feel anything. A more accurate construction is that the feelings and thoughts occur, but there is no corresponding shift in behaviour or action, like leaves on a river that does not disturb the overall flow of the geological feature.

A personal idiom considering Vulcan has few water bodies to speak of, let alone forests.

In Michael's mind, Philippa would over her direction and guide her through the intricacies as she has done for so many other aspects of their time together, Michael would hear that lilting voice in her dreams, encouraging in of their moments and discoveries. In weak moments the commander would swear whispered endearments echoed in her spartan quarters.

In Philippa's mind, she made an art of ruthlessly suppressing any thoughts of Michael as foolish fantasies of somebody genuinely besotted with a beautiful and talented protege; a human cliche allows her to join the ranks of many people in power from artists to the anesthesiologist to Admirals.

Of course, it does not work well, and Philippa cannot escape thoughts of how Michael's taut muscles would feel beneath her fingertips and the words she is like to utter. She feels like these hauntings are her (justifiable) penance for hurting Michael

  
The reality is entirely different but no less profound and heart rendering.

Philippa is far too weak for anything too strenuous, at first she shies away from her wounded body being on display.

“Not precisely ideal circumstances, Number One, I did waste those five years, eight months and 91 days of longing.”

Michael is so gentle it’s hard to remain scared when she smiles so gently and whispers endearments in multiple languages when she let the muscle jerks happen as they will.

“You life is scared in any form or configuration- in general, and to me most specifically

"Admit impediments. Love is not love  
Which alters when it alteration finds,  
Or bends with the remover to remove:  
O no; it is an ever-fixed mark,"

Michael counters as she kisses her way down Philippa’s neck, and preferencing the kisses with whatever lines of poetry struck her fancy at the time.

“Shakespeare? Philippa can’t quite believe she is giggling.

“One of many contributions Amanda made to my education” Michael agrees as explores with light touches

“Remind me to pay her my compliments when we visit.”

Philippa wants to get entirely lost in the moment, but her chronic injuries limit her enthusiasm. Instead, she decides to focus on Michael’s movements? Gently touching her cheeks and throat.

“Thank you for believing in me, in us, even when I gave you no reason to."

"In you, I have found a sense of home. I love you not only because of the way you are but because of the way I am when I am with you." is Michael's only reply. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. The Beloved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Diplomatic Trip to Vulcan

 

"Enlightenment values of individual freedom are manifested best in individual acts of criticism and defiance." Pankaj Mishra- Indian Novelist

 

 

 

The problem starts with excessive consumption of alcohol.

 

Michael Burnham privately believes that the same is true for many problems in the known universe, why so many species choose to dull or alter their senses in such a variety of ways is a mystery. Michael finds mental alertness and agility to be a great asset and one of her real pleasures. However entire black-market economies and active species like the Ferengi are always willing to take up the mantel for profit.

 

This reality is true even on Vulcan.

 

Of course, Vulcans themselves do not indulge unless for ritual purposes or they are off world subject to other cultural mores, to improve diplomatic relations.

 

However, much to the discontent of Logic Purists, some concessions are being made to satisfy off-world guests, such as wide variety of foods and portable cooling systems.

 

The source of their current problem is the high level of alcohol available at diplomatic functions and the ease with which stimulate guidelines are subject to violation.

 

"How long are you on nursemaid duty for?"

 

Michael and Philippa are sitting in the corner of the banquet room, conversing quietly as the watch the celebratory dances and performances from some of Vulcan's top artisans.

 

The abrasive commentary from across the room is intrusive and unwelcome. Seth Higgins, the son of a top admiral, is making his way towards them while struggling to maintain his centre of gravity. Michael made a mistake earlier that week in beating him, and his friends in a martial arts demonstration; his overtures remain a constant source of aggravation in the next week.

 

"I am not playing such a duty but nor is it any of your business how I spend either my personal or recreational time," Michael says blandly, keen to have this conversation dealt with as soon as possible.

 

 

"Surely you have better uses for your time than spending it in the corner with a washed up...scarred... Failed Captain." here he made the mistake of bumping into Philippa and knocking her sensitive side harshly. The ripple of painful spasms is unmistakable, and their seating companions rise in protest.

 

It is now that Michael remembers that Philippa was on his disciplinary review committee that ended his patchy, unenthusiastic Starfleet career. There was something of a scandal at the time, the Senior Officer Higgins and Philippa were old friends.

 

Events tend to get exaggerated in the retelling. This tendency is one of the aspects of working with humans that Michael has struggled to adjust to even to this day, Vulcans value accuracy in reporting no matter what the timeframe between events.

 

As such contrary to the retelling of an enthusiastic ensign, she did not 'throw him across the room with one hit.’ In actuality there were two; a block to get him away from the older woman and another when he attempts to move around her. Furthermore, the seats were in such a place to make the term 'across the room,’ impossible and inaccurate.

 

Also, converse to the romantic notions of Sylvia Tilly she wasn't a 'dashing hero for love." Her actions were far from heroic; it was a reaction of concern for her partner being in distress. Furthermore, she would do the same for any of her teammates facing a similar vulnerability.

 

Paradoxical to the disapproving commentary of Commander Saru she didn't 'recklessly endanger peace on a whim' this was a primarily contained situation between the two individuals. The odds were firmly against this escalating, at the very least Michael is sure she has some allies in the crew who would not let her fight alone. The odds were 92.6734% in her favour. This loyalty may be for no other reason than Philippa inspires such respect in all she meets; even the obsessive Lorca whom is civil, bordering on friendly.

 

Contrary to her more vocal critics on Vulcan she did not display an 'egregious lapse in logic and control.' Her control is just as firm as it was before the incident. Michael spends her whole childhood and youth developing a unique blend of Vulcan and Human disciplines. Nothing in the previous episode violates the framework of her morality.

 

In short, if the situation were to happen again, with the same outcomes, there is nothing she would change.

 

Michael will protect Philippa with everything she has; come what may in regards to her problematic reputation in all corners of the galaxy.

 

 

 

 

 

****

 

 

 

The planet Vulcan has a prison system.

 

Off-worlders often express surprise and make jokes about what Vulcans may consider crimes, usually with a focus on a lack of logic and showing of emotions. Those ignorant assumptions have little appreciation for just how violent Vulcans were pre-reform nor the necessity of such things in modern times with the rise of Logic Extremists and other fanatic fringe groups.

 

Philippa reflects on this reality as she limps into ShiKahr Prison Sector One, flanked by Amanda and Sarek who was thoughtfully matching their pace to hers without comment or complaint, though they must be anxious to get to the complex quickly.

 

"I feel I should apologise for this incident," Philippa says quietly, finding the circumstances both horrifying and humbling.

 

"You are not responsible for the precedent or antecedent events, Ms. Georgiou. Therefore, the responsibility is not yours to take" Sarek replies neutrally as they identify themselves at the reception desk.

 

"Indirectly I am the reason for what is likely to become a diplomatic incident between Vulcan and the Federation," Philippa argues, wincing as pain shot through her weak side.

 

"Indirectly my husband and I bare partial responsibility for the uprising of the 'Vulcan Purity' moments. After all, our marriage violates fundamental laws and beliefs. Do you think we should apologise to the High Council? Or depart off-world in shame? Amanda asks in a tone she usually reserves for students who do not consider their answers before speaking.

 

"Of course not,” Philippa says hastily, rapidly gaining an appreciation for why this couple commands such respect in their different fields.

 

"The matter is moot then; extremism is always going to occur, whatever the realities in particular,” Sarek says looking as implacable as his mate.

 

People from other planets and systems often judge the marriage of Lady Amanda Grayson and Sarek. There are too many cultural and physical differences. The lady has no desire to become Vulcan by proxy. However, in situations like this Philippa bares witness to how in tune the couple is and how well their personalities compliment each other.

 

Philippa tries not to consider the future with Michael; there are far too variables to consider. However, when she looks at the people who raised her, hope swells in her heart.

 

*****

 

 

"You are aware of the potential charges you face?" Sarek states.

 

"Yes, Sarek." Michael's tone is calm and without fear or inflection.

 

"Are you feeling ok? Are you getting enough sleep?" Amanda questions.

 

Michael's posture softens slightly, and her tone becomes tender as she turns to her foster mother. There are stark differences in how she interacts with the two parent figures in her life.

 

"I am doing well, Amanda. There is nothing that I need or require at the current time."

 

Indeed, this is prison space nothing like the others Philippa has experienced. The place is light and airy; the cells are comfortable with space and adequate bedding. There is a selection of fruits and vegetables in patters at the door entrance; there is little deprivation here. It puts the former captain in mind of the retreat she stayed at during her rehabilitation.

 

Philippa has witness people in prison before, is responsible for putting more than a few galactic criminals within the justice system of various planets. There is certain etiquette to being incarcerated no matter the crime or protestations of innocence.

 

Her experience does not prepare her for the bizarreness of the current situation.

 

At the top of the list is the fact her lover is infuriatingly calm even though she is still a precarious situation with Starfleet legal authorities. The younger woman does not raise a single protest as Vulcan security forces approach her and give an in-depth account of her actions, reasoning, and motivation.

 

It is on the tip of Philippa's tongue to suggest some legal representation, but Michael and her foster parents look askance at the notion. There is nothing in dispute, nothing to defend, not with Vulcan's prodigious memory, reputation for honesty and about 30 witnesses.

 

Michael is sitting cross-legged on the bench, regarding them serenely, as if there is little to be done and that she is genuinely at peace with the current situation and intends to stay there as long as the authorities deem appropriate.

 

The younger woman is one of the most astute people, Philippa has ever known. This trait is one of the things that made her so attractive. There is no way her lover is ignorant of the potential problems her rash actions invoke, in fact, Michael is the type to view every response from at least ten different angles, it was almost a sport to keep her mind agile.

 

Such a tendency had been amusing when Michael debates the best places for them to spend her shore leave. However, there is nothing humorous when this talent turns to self-sacrifice, it bears too many similarities to the Battle of The Binary Stars.

 

Just like before, Michael is playing the martyr.

 

 

 

 

 

******

 

 

"You cannot ask me to do any differently, Philippa."

 

"Oh, I wouldn't be so confident in that assessment, Michael,” Philippa replies icily.

 

 

Michael is calm, but she is boarding on defiant as the face each other, on opposite sides of the forcefield. Now that they are in a relationship it is easy for Philippa to judge the micro-expressions that are almost like a third language for the younger woman.

 

"Surely you can understand the ramifications of such actions sweetheart?" Philippa asks summing level patience from her years of experience in command, but she cannot resist the term of endearment that slips from her lips.

 

"Possibly better than you do, this will not do my reputation for defiling the Vulcan populous any good” Michael states with a half an ironic half smile.

 

"Not the time for jokes, Michael." Philippa cannot keep the anger at bay.

 

"I was not attempting to be humorous; my point remains the same. I believe my actions were entirely justified both at the time and upon reflection. There was an immediate threat to your safety."

 

"I have been insulted by drunk people before, Michael. I have been taunted by people in your presence before even!" Philippa struggles not to show her confusion.

 

"It was a superhuman effort not to respond than too. There is no stopping me now, especially when the man kicked at your cane."

 

"I am not such an invalid now, Number One. You do not need to protect me like one of your mythical heroes, you are not my security officer, nor would I ever expect you to play such a role."

 

" You of all people taught me to utilise the skills I have in all circumstances. There is no higher honour in my mind than protecting you."

 

Philippa is too old to succumb to the urge to swoon but fears it is a distinct possibility at this present time.

 

"You have possibly permanently injured the son of an admiral during delicate negotiations..."

 

"Unlikely, I timed and modulated the strength of my strike to avoid that happening. The healers report that he is fine now." Michael states without infliction.

 

Philippa takes a deep centring breath, and Michael smiles at the use of the breathing techniques they practice together. She can almost trace the easing of tension beneath the light traveling robes.

 

"My only regret, as always, is that my actions cause you distress."

 

"You let that young man get under your skin Michael, and that lead to a disproportionate response, a most human of failings with a Vulcan skillset. Please don't do such things in my name, your position with Discovery does not make you immune to judgment. Gabriel Lorca may have his spore drive, but he is not omniscient."

 

"I will concede that point."

 

Philippa sighs and not for the first time curses the restrictions in her mobility. There is energy coursing through her limbs, but there is no visible outlet, not here, not now.

 

“This is why I lied to you in the first place you know” she confesses almost wistfully.

 

Michael tilts her head curiously as if she can hear the undercurrents in those words.

 

“I knew how reckless you can be with your safety, especially when others are under threat. I could barely stand it as your captain, much less as your lover. It hurts so much.”

 

“Philippa…”

 

“It may have escaped either your notice or your instincts, but you are not alone and have more to consider than just your moral compass.”

 

Michael flinched at the pain that laced every word.

 

 

 

 

 

*****

 

Both Vulcans and Starfleet take a dim view of assaulting a wounded war veteran and impeding their mobility.

 

The insults to Michael and Philippa happened in front of many witnesses and security cameras; there is no 'other side' in this scenario. However, both sides of the equation have high standards for judicial investigation, especially as the Federation expands and seeks allies in the war with the Klingons.

 

Michael may occupy an increasingly ambiguous place in Vulcan society, but she is a citizen of Vulcan, and she argues her reasoning with skill and precision. There are no extremists on the tribunal, and her actions are justified in the circumstances, if unorthodox and worthy of some criticism. It helps that Vulcans as a whole do not enjoy stimulants or its presence in their cities.

 

Mental clarity is far too valuable.

 

The Federation is frankly more than a little embarrassed at the whole affair; this delegation is supposed to be demonstrating their best and brightest to one of the most important allies in the quadrant. The actions of one former ensign reflect poorly on the whole institution. The rules around guest invite need to be tightened. This is especially when Vulcan High Command is split between further (formal) engagement with Starfleet and keeping their remaining fleet of warrior class ships in reserve for the protection of their remote colonies.

 

Starfleet also does not want any further disciplinary entanglements with Michael Burnham; somehow that incredibly messy situation resolved itself peacefully, with the former commander serving a useful role outside the reach of public security. The idea of mutiny still sends shudders down the spines of Starfleet leadership. Technically a person without a formal rank is not subject to fleet discipline.

 

A loophole they intend to exploit.

 

 

*****

 

Gabriel Lorca and his crew closed ranks in support of Michael despite her status amongst them; even Saru stands firm, his ganglia flaring with conviction and intensity.

 

"You have one loyal Sehlat on your hands, Philippa." His still healing eyes show no signs of either rebuke or insult, but he is increasingly difficult to read when he watches you as if life is one giant chess match.

 

"You are doing your reputation and Discovery's mission no favours by refusing even token discipline" Philippa warns softly "The fringes won't be unregulated for long nor will your actions in the war efforts."

 

He refuses to act in disciplinary capacity when she returns to the ship. Michael does not seem to have any official file to alter, but Philippa is quite sure that Lorca is willing to do this at any point in the proceeding, complete with instructing his crew lie.

 

"A lover's tiff with an alcoholic former ensign who disgraced himself at a Vulcan Embassy is an embarrassment nothing more, beneath even to Katrina's attention, especially as nobody is coming to the foolish boy's defence, not even his famous family."

 

"Still, it all goes on a file at Starfleet Command, Gabriel; you know this. Do not do this because I once taught you at the Academy."

 

Gabriel snorts in wry amusement "You aren't useful enough for me to be loyal to, besides you gave me my only failing grade in 4th Year."

 

"Go and have dinner with your Jail Bird" Lorca advises in a clear dismissal as he turns back to the paperwork that never ends for even renegade captains.

 

Philippa never misses command except in the circumstances like this one, where she can claim no standing to argue further.

 

Philippa feels torn, on the one hand, she is a concerned lover, and on the other, she is a by the book captain. Half the moves Discovery makes give her nightmares. Michael protects her from the worst of her experiences. She can't selectively agree with their disregard for regulation just because it is favourable to her beloved.

 

What happens when Michael outlives her usefulness in the crusade against the Klingons? Will the 'mutineer' continue to enjoy such fierce loyalty?

 

However, she has no position of power in the institution, so she does as instructed, along with her fears.

 

As she walks back to the hotel they share, Philippa resolves to stop playing the ‘moment game.’ The future is uncertain; their live paths may end up diverging, but she wants to fight for decades together, write joint wills and find a place to live together.

 

It is a reality she will demand.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They are moving in together.

 

Not in practice, of course, Michael will be living on Discovery for an indefinite timeframe, and Philippa is nomadic at the moment.

 

However, they have decided to find somewhere that meets both their needs. Michael seems joyous at the idea of putting down roots. She waxes about starting a garden, the animals they will foster and the astronomy lab that she will build for her lover. Michael is close to springing up to create models when Philippa pulls her back to bed, still wanting to address the problems at the Embassy before the younger woman gets lost in her designs.

 

"You cannot protect me from everything, love."

 

"I know, but I am still going to try whenever possible and calculate my odds of success at 1:7…”

 

Philippa cuts off her lecture on descriptive statistics with gentle fingers against her lips. The rambles are adorable but not necessary currently.

 

It is too complicated to stay angry with the younger woman. They have worked too hard to be together. Besides, there is little point arguing, Michael is as unmovable as a mountain when it comes to specific topics, her safety is one of them.

 

Therefore, Philippa feels no conflict in kissing her lover as soon as they are alone in the apartment, heedless of the serious discussions they should be having. Some things were more important than arguments and debate. Just the notion of seeing Michael behind bars is haunting; it was too close to becoming a reality.

 

"At least promise me you won't be so reckless with your own life ever again" Philippa whispers against dark hair "It took me too long to find you.” there is a plea in the tone.

 

Michael tangles their fingers together, tracing her fingertips, an incredibly intimate gesture in Vulcan or so Philippa has guiltily read in the past, trying to understand the reality of her second in command and the expectations her foster culture.

 

"My greatest joy is spending time with you; I will do everything to stay with you and join our lives together, trust me to centre my actions on that reality.'."

 

Philippa kisses her in reply.

 

 

 

 

 

******

 

The original mission is a success to the surprise of all.

 

Vulcans agree to aid the war effort in ways that stretch their moral codes but do not break them, much like the original 'Vulcan Hel.' All future ceremonies occur without any diplomatic incidents big or small.

 

The damage to Michael's standing on Vulcan is more difficult to quantify. This latest misstep hardens the resentments against her and feels the whispers about Sarek 'failed experiment 2.0", but few are willing to say this directly. The knowledge no longer affects Michael so profoundly; she is developing a sense of identity outside Vulcan's broader society.

 

Sarek is challenging to read as always; he seems almost painfully neutral in all their interaction as if she finally proves a disappointing theory or more accurately a failure of a method, was she too human at that moment for him to handle? Sarek is a contradiction for at the same time he defends her ardently to the worst of the Purist. In summary, their relationship is no different than usual, respectful but troubled. Michael doubts they will ever find real peace ever again, especially with the intertwining of their psyches and the splitting of Sarek's katra.

 

Amanda is neutral in public, but she chastised the younger Higgins in private. There a few things that she detests more than bullies, in whatever form the behaviour took, or the age of the individuals involved. The teacher’s only real concern is how to protect both her children.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

******

 

"Do wish to have a more permanent base of Vulcan? I can easily relocate here."

 

Michael takes a long time to answer the question, and Philippa thinks she may have fallen asleep. One thing that is strange is just how quiet Vulcan is despite being one of the most advanced races known to the Federation. The people value privacy, and mental clarity and their architecture reflect this reality.

 

Michael maintains a small apartment near Sarek's Estate and takes delight in playing tour guide around her favourite spots in the capital city. They even have dinner with a few of Michael's former classmates and tea with her foster brother who is home on leave.

 

Philippa can privately admit that she mentally compared her lover's childhood to something out of Charles Dickens and Hanya Yanagihara, starved of real companionship outside her foster family. The retired captain is pleased to have this notion dispelled in their time together.

 

There are the garden domes that Michael and Spock played in as a child, complete with an exotic series of plants and meditation stones. There are a series of what Vulcan's consider to be 'playgrounds' through, more agility practice than anything else.

 

There is the nature facility were Michael did the majority of her xenoanthropology training, somewhat shyly the other woman shows her favourite animals and ecological environments. The animals are drawn to her and Philippa loves learning all Michael's passion as she explains what each adaptation means and the social structures.

 

"I don't think so, Vulcan will always be my home in a sense. The fleet is providing me with some sense of family, and I am learning to reintegrate to human society. I want to be wherever you are; I will stay or go as it suits you. If you wish to return to the Georgiou lands, we can do that. "

 

"That is a very romantic notion, sweetheart but I am an injured war veteran who can live, write and teach anywhere, you and Discovery at the start of an unknown series of conflicts with a brutal empire who may or may not target you specifically. It is important to me that you have a space to call your own"

 

 

"I disagree - I have everything I could hope for considering I still bare the dubious distinction of being Starfleet's only mutineer. As Dr. Culber stated my latest psychological evaluations were excellent if you need an objective measure to allay your fears." Michael offers a tender smile and a kiss.

 

"I am not your captain anymore if I ever was objective about you, those days are long gone. My measures are different now" Philippa laughs reflecting on how poorly she concealed her feelings from everyone but Michael.

 

"That is a relief," Michael replies as she winds Philippa long hair through fingers. Michael regards her lover seriously taking a moment to order in her thoughts in the most precise way.

 

"I want to build a home wherever you are I want to continue playing the scientific adviser to your youngest family members. I want to read the first drafts of all the future publications of Philippa Georgiou. Your brothers already have me slotted into the harvesting schedule. The future is uncertain in this time of war, but that is my sense of home."

 

Philippa sighs happily and entwines their limbs together, relishing the familiar sensations. Michael’s touch soothes the worst of her losses and nightmares. Their life was devoid of easy answers or right resolutions. Her lover will always fall into the role of the champion, heedless of consequences.

 

"Feels like home to me."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
